Page 21 of Protégé King

“Finally,” he murmurs, and I can feel him hard between my legs, nestled along the wet seam of my body. “This is what I’ve been waiting for all my life.”

“Me on a couch?” I tease, when I really don’t know how my desire-laden brain manages words at all.

“The bed will be next,” he promises, leaning in for a kiss, and just as his lips touch mine, his cell phone rings.

I stiffen, as if it’s my mom about to catch us in the closet kissing again.

He laughs, obviously reading my reaction. “We’re not kids who’re about to get caught being naughty, Alana. We don’t have to answer. We’re not going to answer.”

“No?” I ask.

“Hell, no. Fuck that call. I have you naked and underneath me.”

I laugh, and he kisses me before he says, “I think I forgot where I left off.”

“Left off?”

“I was kissing you all over.”

He starts to move as if he really intends to go back to where he left off, which isn’t a bad thought, considering his mouth was all over me, but it’s too late for that. Way, way too late. I latch my leg around his and hold onto him. “Later,” I murmur. “Right now, I want…”

His cell phone rings again, and it’s like a gong ringing through the room, an intrusion that attempts to pierce the steamy mood, but Damion isn’t having it.

He brushes his lips over mine and pretends the abrasive, nagging sound of his phone doesn’t exist. “Say it, and you can have it. What do you want, Alana?”

I follow his lead, focusing on him. Just him. “Can’t you guess?”

“Why do I have to guess when you can tell me? Say it.”

“I want you back inside me. This time—”

“With me naked? With us naked? With me on top of you?”

“Damion,” I breathe out, my sex aching for him at this point.

He smiles. God, I love his smile, and he reaches between us and grips his cock, sliding it back and forth between us until I’m losing my mind. Until finally he presses inside me. I gasp and grab him anywhere and everywhere I can hold on to as he slides in nice and deep, and shifts left and right.

“How’s that?” he asks, his breath hot against my mouth.

“Perfect,” I whisper.

“Perfect,” he repeats in a low murmur that vibrates against my lips as his mouth closes down on my mouth, his tongue following in a sultry slide I feel everywhere, inside and out.

I arch into him, and he cups my backside, easing out of me until I’m panting and then driving deep and lingering there, sliding us back and forth until I’m all but begging for him to move. This time when he drives into me, the energy between us shifts, darkens, and grows frenzied. We’re kissing, touching, bucking, and grinding, and I just can’t get close enough to him. He can’t seem to get deep enough. It’s as if my skin is on fire with his touch.

Time stands still.

Time moves too fast.

We peak and valley and peak and valley with a mix of lust and tenderness I never knew I could feel until we collapse together, our bodies exhausted. Damion lays there on top of me for a moment, maybe ten—I just don’t know—before he rolls to his side and takes me with him.

He’s pulling me in snug against him when his cell phone rings again. “Someone really wants you,” I murmur.

“You, I hope,” he says, nuzzling my neck, the rasp of his whiskers tickling my skin, and if that doesn’t say we aren’t four years old in a closet, I don’t know what does. Well, except we just had sex.

A thought that has me smiling and replying with, “As if you have to hope at this point.”

His phone stops ringing and starts again. He groans. I dislodge myself from my comfy spot nestled against his body and reach over the edge of the couch to snap up his pants, where the sound is obviously coming from. I manage to snake his cell out of his pocket.

---